It's Still Me
by esking
Summary: The 11th Doctor regenerates. "Give me a mirror, Jack," he said softly. "Doctor, I don't think that's such-" "Damn it, Jack, give me the mirror!" Still the same anger. The same Doctor.
1. Chapter 1

**Cryptic a/n: Think Asa Butterfield (Hugo in "Hugo", or, for you cool people, Mordred from Merlin).**

The Doctor's entire body convulsed. Amy tried to run forward, but Rory held her back. "What's happening!" Amy sobbed. "Captain, what's happening?"

Jack was watching the Doctor sadly. He shook his head. "This isn't supposed to happen."

"What's not supposed to happen?"

"You said you saw him die," said Jack in a low voice, turning away from the Doctor. "In this body." He turned back to see the Doctor's hands and face being encased in clouds of glowing golden light.

"Captain, _what _is _happening_?" Amy said again.

"He's regenerating," said Jack. "When his body is dying, he regenerates into a new one. It's okay. He'll be fine."

The Doctor screamed and collapsed to the floor. "Nooooo!" As the scream continued, it rose in pitch. They could see a face now. It was smaller than his last, and capped by straight, dark brown hair. The Doctor screamed again and curled in on himself, scrunching into a ball.

He stayed there, breathing hard, his arms over his head. He must have been smaller, because his jacket was now baggy and wrinkled.

"Doctor?" said Jack tentatively. He walked slowly forward towards the Doctor's curled up form. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Doc?"

The arms loosened, and the Doctor raised his head, looking up at Jack.

"Oh," said Jack, leaning back on his haunches. "Wow."

"Doctor?" Amy and Rory also came forward. "Oh, my," whispered Amy. "Doctor, your…"

The Doctor raised himself to his feet. His head reached Jack's chest. He looked no older than twelve. He looked up at Jack. "Give me a mirror," he said softly.

"Doctor, I don't think that's so-"

"Damn it, give me a mirror!" shouted the Doctor, just as angry as they'd ever seen him. Still the same Doctor.

Reluctantly, Jack turned the mirror attached to the console towards the Doctor. He consulted himself. "Blimey. I look like _Mordred_." He brushed his bangs in front of his eyes, then pushed them back. "I met Mordred once. Nice kid. Until he killed Merlin of course." He frowned, looking up at the ceiling. "Merlin _wasn't _so nice. He was kind of…pompous. And old. Blimey, he was so old. Right annoying old bugger."

Jack snickered.

The Doctor whipped around. "What? What's so funny?"

"You're the kid Doctor," said Jack, grinning. We should call you Doogie Howser."

"That isn't funny," the Doctor snapped. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned down. But it _was _funny. Quite considerably.

**I didn't intend for this to go anywhere, but now I'm kind of evilly imagining all the fun I could have with the Doctor trying to persuade adults that he's really the Doctor. And possibly returning to say Martha and/or Rose, just because I'm sadistic. **


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I have decided to continue with our child Doctor, but I realize I have shot my self in the foot, because Rory, Amy, and Jack were three of the main people I really wanted to introduce to the new Doctor, and they've all already seen him. However, I have found a remedy, so enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: don't own nothing. Nothing is owned. **

The TARDIS rumbled again, and without warning, all four travelers were thrown off their feet. The lights flashed and went out, and silence fell.

**oOo**

A soft beam of sunlight streamed through the window and into Amy Pond's eyes. She groaned and rolled over to look at her alarm clock. 6:17 am. _Too early. _

There was a rustled from the other side of the bed, and Rory's arm curled over her shoulder. She felt his lips on the back of her neck and stiffened.

"Rory," she said, suddenly wide awake.

"Mm…what?" Rory said sleepily.

"How did we get here? We were just in the TARDIS. Just a second ago."

"Huh?"

Amy sat bold upright and looked down at him. "Just a second ago we were in the TARDIS with the Doctor and…" she rubbed her eyes. "Someone else, I don't remember. And the Doctor…" she remembered the Doctor screaming and collapsing against the control panel. "Oh my God, Rory, we need to find him! Get up!" She leapt out of bed and hurried around the other side to drag Rory to his feet.

"Come _on!_"

Amy clattered down the stairs and out into the garden, leading Rory by the hand, both of them still barefoot. "Doctor!" Amy shouted to the world. "DOCTOR!" She slowed to a halt, breathing hard, tears welling up in her eyes.

Rory squeezed her hand. "He'll be okay, Amy. He'll come back, just like he always does."

Amy turned to face him, eyes shining. "Don't you remember? He was _hurt! _He needs us!" She looked desperately all around, running out to the road side. "DOCTOR!"

"Come on, Amy," said Rory gently, "He'll be okay."

"But he _needs_ us."

"Well, if he does, he'll send a message. Come on." He pulled her back inside and into the kitchen. Amy made eggs and bacon in complete silence, tearing dripping slowly down her face. They ate, still in utter silence, the only sound the clinking of silverware on plates, and then-

_Knock knock knock knock…knock knock._ And then a shout: "Amy! Rory!"

"That's him!" In a second, Amy was on her feet, sprinting toward the front door. "Doctor!"

Rory chased after her. "Amy, that's not his-" Amy flung the door wide open "-voice." On their porch stood a boy who couldn't have been older than twelve. He had a pale, heart shaped face and round, impossibly blue eyes, and his head came up only to Amy's shoulder. He hugged her.

Amy looked at Rory in confusion over the boy's head and mouthed, _What? _She pointed at the boy. _Who is he? _

Rory shrugged helplessly. _I don't know._

"Um…sweetie." Amy pried the little boy's arms from around her waste and bent down so their faces were level. "Where are you parents?"

The little boy furrowed his brow. "Amy, it's me. It's the Doctor."

Amy released him, and Rory could see that her fiery Scottish wrath had been kindled. "That's not funny. Who are you? _What have you done with him?"_

"Pond!" cried the little boy, "It's me! And I'm _starving_. You haven't got any fish sticks and custard have you?"

Amy and Rory gaped at him. "Doctor?" Amy gasped. "It's…_you_."

"Yes, of course it's me, dimwit!" snapped the little boy impatiently. He clapped a hand over his mouth, his blue eyes wide with surprise. "_Rude?_" he said, lowering his hand a looking disgusted. "Oh dear, am I _rude _Doctor now?" He glanced down at himself. "Rude and in puberty. Superb."

**Thanks for reading, all review appersheated! Chapter three coming soon. I hope.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Haha! Victory! First the sad part: I realized very soon after starting chapter two that I can't write little Doctor without making the scene incredibly depressing, and was ready to give it up. The happy part: at lunch I consulted my dear friend **a good Mal goes to war**, and he, being the genius that he is, helped me come up with several moderately humorous scenes. So applause to good Mal. **

**Also, check this out: I can spell Roranicus Pondicus with the periodic table. Actually it has to be Reranicus or Ruranicus. But that's okay. It's Ruthenium Radium Nickel Copper Sulfur (RuRaNiCuS) Phosphorus Oxygen Neodymium Iodine Copper Sulfur (PONdICuS). Random. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything, and most of the following chapters are his ideas.**

**The Light Switch, the Door Opening Button, and the Lever which will Prevent Countless Deaths**

"Get back to the TARDIS!" the Doctor ordered, shouting over the wail of alarms and the thundering crashes as the Cyber ships collided with each other. He, Rory, and Amy skidded to a halt at the junction of two deserted corridors.

"Where are you going?" Rory asked, panting.

"I need to set their missile lock so they can't shoot at the retreating squadron. I won't be a minute. Go!" He pointed down the hall leading to the right, and watched the Ponds run down it, back to the cargo bay and the TARDIS.

Amy's "Good luck" from the end of the hall was drowned out by a sudden hair-raising _screeeeeeech! _of metal. Sparks flew from the ceiling and the Doctor was plunged into darkness.

"Superb," he grumbled.

From his jeans pocket he withdrew his new sonic screwdriver (which had become distinctly shorter, he noticed with no small amount of chagrin) and held it up, casting a feeble beam of light on the floor in front of him. He scanned along the wall, searching for a light switch. He spotted one only a few feet away, near a flashing red alarm light. The Doctor hurried over to the spot and reached up to the panel.

He couldn't reach it.

With a flurry of intergalactic swear words, the Doctor stood on his toes and reached his fingers up as far as they would go. He hopped, smacking his hand wildly on the wall. But he couldn't reach the damn switch.

"Fine," he hissed to himself. "I'll just find my way to the control room in the dark.

Feeling blindly through the debris strewn corridor, the Doctor made his way up two flights of stairs and across several railings which were distressingly lacking in the way of hand rails, and to the control room, snarling all the way. If this regeneration was the TARDIS's idea of a practical joke, it was _not _funny. How was he supposed to get anything done as a prepubescent brat? Or maybe that was the point. Was the TARDIS trying to tell him something? Of course not. She was just being mean for the sake of it, just to get on his nerves. Well, he'd show her. Just as soon as he stopped the Cyber fleet from blowing itself completely to smithereens.

At last he came to the double doors at the front of the ship. He could see the control panel to open the door, and, before even trying to reach it, cursed again. Why were Cybermen so damn _tall_? He immediately regretted not having Amy come along for the mere purpose of opening the damn door. The Doctor cast around for some bit of debris on which he might stand, and his eyes fell upon a decapitated torso of a Cybermen, with wires sticking out both ends.

He was still himself enough to feel that overwhelming wave of tragic apology as he dragged the torso back over to the door. "I'm sorry," he muttered again and again. "I'm so sorry." He was fully aware of what he was standing on as he used his sonic screwdriver to open the door to the control room.

The place was a mess. Stray wires, some still live, lay haphazardly over the wide console which dominated the room. Two Cybermen corpses sat in swivel chairs, still remarkably intact. The Doctor picked his way over the wreckage to the console and waved his screwdriver over as much of it as he could reach. Which wasn't very much. The thing came all the way up to his chest. The screwdriver squeaked at him, showing him the lever which would cancel the missile firing function. Of course it was at the very top of the console, inches out of reach.

This was entirely not fair. Had the TARDIS even paused to consider how impeding being a child was? The Doctor clambered onto the nearest Cyberman's lap and used the new height to climb onto the control panel, carefully avoiding all the other buttons, switches, and levers, until he reached the one to turn of the missiles. It was already off.

"Right." The Doctor slid back down the consol, and in doing so accidentally sat on a round green button. Instantly, the two dead Cybermen straightened up, their blank eyes glowing blue and locking onto the Doctor. He hopped back to the floor, brandishing his screwdriver.

"You are a child," the Cybermen stated in perfect unison. "Children are innocent. Leave."

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "Oh. Superb. Excellent." He clanked his knuckles on the Cyberman's stomach. "New design. Good improvements. I'll be going then." He skipped out of the room and ran as fast as he could on his short little legs back to the TARDIS.

**Thanks for reading! All reviews appersheated. I've got a whole stockpile of one shots with amusing smallness related adventures, but if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Exterminate**

**Thanks to the wonderful** ..Odd** for your supportive review. I hope you all like these next two drabbles.**

**Disclaimer: don't own nothing. **

It was the single most often repeated word in his memory. It haunted his nightmares, his waking life. At least once every night his blood ran cold at the sound of the angry mechanical voice, and now it was back.

"Exterminate! Exterminate! EXTERMINATE the Doctor!" A single Dalek rolled into the room, and its cylindrical eye shaft whirred around to fix on the Doctor. "EXTERMINATE!"

A bolt of green light shot out of the arm. The Doctor threw himself forward, landing right at the Dalek's base. Slowly, he straightened up, to find that his head reached just under the Dalek's eye stalk.

"Where are you hiding, Doctor?" the Dalek cried. "Come out and face me!"

The eye shaft shifted left and right, whizzing right over the Doctor's head. He stifled a laugh.

"EXTERMINATE!" Another Dalek appeared in the room and focused on the Doctor. "EXTERMINATE!"

"The Doctor is hiding!" the Dalek next to the Doctor reported.

"He is beside you. EXTERMINATE!" The green energy beam shot towards the Doctor, but he dove sideways and the beam hit the first Dalek. It groaned and sparked, and its light blinked out.

"Too small target?" he taunted. he lunged at the second Dalek so that he was directly beneath it's eye. From his pocket he withdrew his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the firing arm, then moved so it could see him.

"EXTERMINATE!" The shout was followed by a whir and low, weak beep.

"Can't shoot me now, ha ha!" The Doctor stuck his thumbs in his ears and wiggled his fingers, his tongue wagging out. "Can't shoot me."

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! _EXTERMINATE!_"

"Later." The Doctor darted out of the room, leaving the malfunctioning Dalek behind.

**And since that was so short, here's another. Warning, it will be moderately less amusing and possibly relatively sad.**

"To Peraxis!" the Doctor cried gleefully, his hands flying expertly over the console. The only perk of this miniature regeneration, he decided, was the TARDIS's adjustment. She had reformed with him, lowering the control panel, moving all the controls closer to the floor so that he could actually reach them. The TARDIS wailed and shuddered to a halt.

"Come on!" He grabbed Amy's hand and led her and Rory down the ramp and out the TARDIS door. He froze solid for a long moment, then dragged them just as swiftly back inside. "Nope. Nope. Back inside. Get back inside. Leaving now."

"Why?" said Amy, trying to look back out the door. "It's just a harmless street."

"It's _not _harmless." The Doctor ran a gentle hand over the wooden door. "She's missing her."

"Who?"

"No one! Let's go!" The Doctor started up to the ramp, but a joyful shout from the outside came, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Doctor! Doctor! You're back!"

"Doctor?" Amy asked.

"Stay inside," said the Doctor. "_Stay!_" He walked slowly back out to the street. Amy and Rory watched, peeking out through a small crack between the TARDIS doors.

An old man wearing a red cap waddled triumphantly across the street to where the Doctor stood with his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. He looked sadder than Amy had ever seen.

"Who are _you_?" the old man asked. Amy couldn't see his face, but his confusion was evident. "What were you doing in the Doctor's police box?" There was a gasp. "Are you his _son_?"

The Doctor laughed, but it wasn't his real laugh. It was a weak, miserable sound. What was it about this man that made the Doctor so _sad?_

"No, Wilfred. It's me."

Amy shifted sideways so she could see the old man's face: a wrinkled mask of shock, "_Doctor?_" But then he grinned. "Doctor!" He hobbled forward and squeezed the little boy in a hug which lifted him off his feet. "What brings you 'ere?"

"An accident," the Doctor admitted. "I think the TARDIS misses Donna."

The old man nodded sympathetically. "She misses you. I can tell. She may not remember what happened, but she remembers being happy. She was the happiest she'd ever been with you. You made her feel worthwhile."

"She was always worthwhile," the Doctor said, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "I hope she remembers that." The Doctor's sad blue eyes drifted back to the TARDIS. Amy and Rory jumped out of sight.

"Wilfred, I should really go," they heard. "If Donna sees the TARDIS…" he railed off. What would happen if this Donna saw the TARDIS? Why did it matter?  
>The door creaked open and the Doctor reappeared. He didn't even look at Amy and Rory, just walked straight to the console, flicked a few switches, and off they flew.<p>

**And on that happy note, I shall bid you adieu until next time. All reviews appersheated **


	5. Chapter 5

**Rose Tyler**

**There was a request for Rose, so Rose there shall be. Warning, as you might imagine any reunion with Rose and the Doctor would be, it is sad. This is not a funny one. I'll make it up to you next time. SPOILERS FOR "A GOOD MAN GOES TO WAR" THROUGH "THE WEDDING OF RIVER SONG"**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

The wallet dropped to the ground right on the sidewalk in front of him. The Doctor bent to pick it up, casting around for the owner. It was early on a Saturday morning and most everyone was still in bed. The wallet must belong to that woman over there, crossing the street a few feet ahead of him. She had soft blonde hair which curled gently at her shoulders, and a blue jacket that stood out against the grey concrete of the building next to which she walked. The Doctor jogged after her, for already she's gained several more yards, thanks to his short new legs.

In retrospect, he really should have seen it coming, and perhaps some small part of him did, but when he tapped the woman's shoulders and found himself face to face, well, face to shoulder with Rose Tyler, he still felt as though all his breath had been brutally punched from his lungs.

Numbly he held out the wallet. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out save a strangled croak.

"Oh, thanks sweetheart." Rose gave him a beautiful smile, and the Doctor felt a small joyful bubble expand in his chest until he felt he might actually float a few inches off the round. He smiled back. "You're-you're welcome."

Rose looked around the sparsely populated street. "Where are your parents?"

"Nowhere," the Doctor answered without thinking. This was true, of course, but this was Rose, and Rose took care of people. She'd taken care of him, after all, and now she was going to do it again.

_"Nowhere,"_ she repeated, aghast. "How old are you?"

"Older than I look," the Doctor assured her. He craned his neck to look back around the square, hoping Amy's bright orange head would appear and save him, but at the same time wishing more than anything that he could stay right there forever with Rose, exactly as they were. But he couldn't and he knew it. "Um, I have to go now." He wheeled around, but Rose's strong familiar hand caught his shoulder.

"Not so fast. You're not goin' anywhere until you've had a cuppa and told me where you're stayin'. Com on." She held out her hand. The Doctor longed to take it as he had before, dragging her off to another great adventure, comforting her as their situation went from bad to worse. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in a bear hug and hold her for eternity while time passed them by. Of course he would never say as much. Rose had someone else now. The metacrisis duplicate would recognize him, he was almost certain, and he would most likely attempt to return to the Doctor's life. That would cause a potentially devastating rip in reality. But looking at Rose Tyler's perfect open hand, so inviting and wonderful, he found he didn't care all that much at the moment. He took Rose Tyler's hand and let her lead him along.

In not one of the billions of languages he spoke could the Doctor have found words to describe the unparalleled joy which flooded through his entire being as he walked hand in hand with Rose Tyler. But he also knew that she could never share his joy, because he could never tell her the truth. She couldn't come back through the rift with him. And he still had to find Rory and Amy.

But-_Rose._ He was sitting on _Rose Tyler's _couch in _Rose Tyler's _flat holding _Rose Tyler's _hand. She released his hand to go into the kitchen and make tea. The Doctor followed her and seated himself at the small kitchen table set for two. It was the closest he knew he'd ever come to paradise, sitting in Rose's kitchen, listening to her hum softly.

"My friend is out," she told him as she sat down and handed him a steaming mug of tea. "He should be back soon." She gave him another dazzling smile. "So what about you? What's your name?"

"John Smith," the Doctor answered automatically.

"I knew a John Smith once," said Rose, her face now touched by sadness. _She missed him_, the Doctor realized. _She misses me_. Happiness and regret blended inside him. Happiness that he had not been forgotten, regret for all the pain he knew he had caused her. And at that moment he knew he had to tell her.

"Don't really know what happened to him." Rose sighed and took a sip of tea.

"I do," the Doctor muttered.

Rose looked up. "What?"

"It's me, Rose. I'm the Doctor."

Rose's eyes widened in shock, and then her face split into the widest grin the Doctor had seen in two hundred years. Her hair clattered to the floor as she swept him up in a hug that nearly suffocated him.

"But…you're _tiny_." She held him at arm's length, inspecting him anew.

The Doctor shrugged. "The TARDIS has a cruel sense of humor sometimes. You have no idea the problems I've had. But it's nice to get the junior discounts." He sighed, letting his eyes linger over every inch of Rose's face. "How long has it been for you?"

"Two years, six months, eleven years," Rose rattled off. She gave an embarrassed giggle. "I've been counting. How long has it been for you?"

The Doctor swallowed. "Two hundred nineteen years, seven months and two days."

"Wow," said Rose softly. "Suddenly this doesn't seem so bad. I still have you, after all." She looked up and down his miniature body. "Is this your next regeneration?"

"No, there was another before this. I wore a bowtie." Rose raised her eyebrows. "Bowties are cool," he said indignantly. "I was, uh…" he trailed off, feeling suddenly guilty, not sure why he'd thought of it in the first place.

"What?"

"Well-" the Doctor cleared his throat "-I, uh, I got married."

"Rose choked on her tea. "You did?"

The Doctor nodded. "At the top of a pyramid while aliens chased us and time disintegrated, with her mother who was at the time younger than her, and her father who didn't know he was her father. And then she shot me."

Rose nodded. "Who is she?"

"Melody Pond. Or rather, Dr. River Song." At that point, a very odd thing happened. The Doctor realized that he was no longer in love with Rose Tyler. He loved her deeply, and always would, but he wasn't _in _love. Saying River Song's name brought back that overwhelming feeling that wasn't quite happy and wasn't quite sad, but was undeniable and unmistakable, and the truest thing in all the universes and realities. "And I love her," he said aloud.

Rose nodded. Her hands were clenched around the mug.

"I never forgot you," the Doctor said softly, staring fixedly at the table. "Not for a minute. I even talked to you once, or the TARDIS's projection of you. You saved my life." He reached for her hand, but Rose pulled it back.

"I can't do this, Doctor."

"Do what?"

"This!" Rose stood up angrily. "I haven't seen you in two years, and you're not even the same."

"But I _am _the same. I'm the same Doctor."

"You're not _my _Doctor. You gave me my own." Rose looked at the clock on the wall. "And he'll be home soon." At the Doctor's devastated expression, she said, "I'm not angry, Doctor. I do love you. But I'm not the same person, and you're _definitely_ not the same person. And I don't just mean a different body. Look at you. You've fallen in love. But you're sad. A lot has happened. You've died twice. You've seen even more of the universe, things more wonderful and more terrible than I can ever imagine. And I love you all the more for it, but you were too far out of reach even when we met at the shop in 2005."

Tears slid freely down Rose's cheeks, but she was smiling. "Doctor, you've given me the two greatest gifts of my _life._ You let me see the universe, and, more importantly," she laughed a tiny life, "you gave me a you who could love me the way you never could, and I love him more than you ever let me love you."

What was the point of two hearts when they had both been ripped entirely to shreds, the Doctor wondered. How was she still living at all, he was quite sure he had no internal organs left, no body at all. He was comprised entirely of freezing fiery pain. This was nothing, _nothing_, compared to any pain he'd ever felt before. The knowledge of all the blood on his hands, River's poison, taking Donna's memories, the Master's torture, paled in comparison to this complete and utter devastation. There was nothing. Before his eyes, the universe imploded within that beautiful face. Nothing could exist . It was impossible that anything should exist anymore. Even the disintegration of time could not equal the vast immeasurable emptiness which now consumed the Doctor's entire being.

A deep ache settled in the pit of his stomach, gnawing and clawing, shredding him from the inside out. His voice was gone, snatched away with his hearts. He could only watch helplessly as Rose knelt down so her face was level with his. Her eyes shone with tears, but they were bright, happy. "You need to go back to your Dr. River Song." She leaned forward and kissed him on both cheeks, leaving two spots of agonizing flames on his stone face. If only.

He wished to become stone, to be a lonely weeping angel. Or better yet, he wished to cease existing altogether, to be erased from space and time itself, to be sucked into the Untempered Schism forever. He could not exist like this. He could not exist at all.

Rose pulled him to his numb feet. He could not see her face anymore, only the shoulder of her blue jaket.

"Please," he managed to croak.

Rose folded him into a hug, and he could feel tear drops falling onto the top of his head. "I love you, Doctor. I will always love you. And I'll never forget." She released him. He turned away and walked like a zombie to the door.

He hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and he knew who he was about to see, but that didn't make the sight of the tall, thin, considerably more handsome 10th self, standing in the doorway holding a bouquet of roses any easier.

"Oh!" said the Duplicate. He smiled brightly. "Hello there. And who are you?"

Without turning, the Doctor hear Rose emerge from the kitchen. "This is Johnny. He was just heading out." Her voice was no unkind, but firm. She didn't want the Duplicate to know who the little boy was, and the Doctor had to agree that this was probably wise. She knew the thrall space and time held over the human time lord. She didn't want to lose him any more than the Doctor wanted to take him. But the Duplicate bent down, looking into the Doctor's eyes. His grin faltered as recognition molded his expression. "Hello, Doctor," he said.

The Doctor nodded stiffly. He bristled as the Duplicate looked him over, appraising his new form.

"How old are you now?" the Duplicate asked.

"Eleven hundred twenty six."

"So it's been over two hundred years for you."

The Doctor nodded.

"Why did you come back?"

"Some friends of mine got lost. I tracked them here."

"Your new companions?" The Doctor noted with another painful twinge that there was no trace of jealousy or resentment in Rose's voice. She was genuinely happy for him, and that hurt more than anything: the knowledge that Rose no longer wanted to accompany him, but was happy to stand aside for another. He wanted her to be happy, that was all he'd ever wanted, but it was only now that he realized just how much he'd wanted her to be happy _with him._

Except she was with him. That was the worst bit. She had him, a human him who could grow old with her, and he had the most wonderful woman in the universe, who knew him less and less with each passing day, and both of them knew that the day would come when the other didn't know or love them at all. And the same things was not happening with Rose.

"I should be going," he said quietly. It was all he trusted himself to say at the moment.

"Yeah."

The Doctor nodded to the Duplicate, and then to Rose, who gave him a watery smile. He forced himself not to sprint from the flat, but to walk calmly, sedately even, down the stairs. He heard a rustle as he reached the next landing, like a bouquet of roses landing on the floor as the holder's hands became entangled in soft blonde hair, pressed against the back of a blue jacket… The Doctor ran the rest of the way out into the street and did not stop until he was six blocks away, at which point he collapsed onto a park bench.

He could feel the wracking sobs building inside him, the flood of tears waiting to burst forth, but-

"Doctor!"

He looked up to see a familiar head of fire orange hair bobbing toward him. Amy's and Rory's faces brought him back somewhat, enough for him to force away a little of of the blinding emptiness and lift his lips into some semblance of a smile.

"Ponds!" he cried, standing up and throwing out his arms. Amy lifted him up off the ground and squeezed him in a bear hug.

"Pond!" the Doctor wheezed. "Can't…_breathe!_"

"Right," said Amy sheepishly, setting him down. "Sorry."

"Where were you!" Rory demanded. "We looked all over!"

"Caught up with a couple friends," said the Doctor. "Come on, there's a sunset two billion light years away with your names on it, on y va!" He led the way back to the TARDIS and didn't look back.

**Thanks for reading, all reviews appersheated. The next chapter will be happier, I promise.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Dr. Song**

**So to make up for that rather depressing chapter, and in response to **girlifathousandstory**'s review, here is another chapter. The idea for the destination came from my friend the Canadian Ginger Midget, who is neither exactly ginger, nor a midget anymore (though he still is to me). And for Mr. YKWYA, I will be including an author's note at the end for your enjoyment.**

***No real spoilers, but just to be on the safe side, maybe spoilers for "A Good Man Goes to War" onward.**

It had been a record seven months since Dr. River Song had last escaped from her jail cell, and one or two of the more optimistic guards had even gone so far as to remove the 24-hour watch specified for her cell. And as suck, it took almost twice as long as usual for security to realize that the familiar blue box had come once again to sweep Dr. Song away to the stars, and by that time of course, she had already been returned to her cell, starry-eyed and humming contentedly.

**oOo**

The TARDIS ground into existence at 3:02 am by the clock on the wall across from River's cell-the prison had been accommodating enough to hang one wired to Earth-London time. She awoke in an instants, grin already in place, and pushed upon the TARDIS door.

When at first she emerged into the vast control room, she did not see the Doctor, only a pair of legs on the other side of the console. A moment after she entered, though, they walked around to her left revealing-

"Who the hell are _you_?" She demanded of the young boy standing before her. "Where's the Doctor?"

The little boy said nothing, only beamed at her and pushed his hands into his pockets in a wonderfully familiar fashion. River's jaw dropped, and she dissolved into a fit of giggles. The patted the TARDIS's wall and wheezed, "You did good, girl! That is one fine regeneration."

The little boy bristled. "I'm a kid now. Kids are cool."

River laughed. "Still my Doctor. Come here." She wrapped the little Doctor in a hug. "So, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." The Doctor bounded back up the ramp and began his flurry of movement over the controls. The TARDIS groaned and vibrated gently.

"You still can't fly her properly." River took both of the Doctor's hands and lifted them away. She leaned over, for the console now came up to just below her hips, and flicked several switches. The groaning ceased instantly, as did the vibrating.

The Doctor relinquished control without complaint and perched himself on the jump seat to watch River work. Rose's words still tore painfully at his hearts, but sitting here now with River so close was like a balm. It certainly didn't patch the enormous hole in his soul, but it soothed his pain, enough so that he could function again, and even enjoy himself.

"So…where are we headed?" River asked. She was standing before the navigation computer, long thin fingers poised over the screen.

"Nice try," said the Doctor with a sly grin. "She knows where to go."

River stuck her tongue out and leaned against the railing next to the Doctor. "Seen my parents lately?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Not for a few months. I owe them some quiet time."  
>River intertwined her fingers with hi. "I don't think they were ever ones for too much quiet time. Still," she squeezed his hand, "no point in bothering them too soon."<p>

**oOo**

As it turned out, the fantastic destination the Doctor had planned for River was Earth, a small island near the equator in the Atlantic Ocean, Azores, some time in the 1600's.

River barely had time to grab a swimsuit before being dragged forcibly out straight onto a gleaming beach of fine white sand. Turquoise waves lapped gently at the shore, which was bordered by lush green rainforest.

"It's _beautiful_," River said breathlessly. She squeezed the Doctor in another rib-cracking hug. "Finally some place _relaxing _to-" he words were cut off by a high-pitched scream, followed by a deafening, unearthly roar. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at River.

"You were saying?"

With an unspoken agreement, they set off together into the jungle.

**oOo**

Inside the jungle, the temperature rose by 20 degree. River had pulled a t-shirt over her swimsuit and they both wore hiking boots, for which River was immediately grateful. Trails were a thing of the distant future, and she was following the Doctor through thick, unforgiving undergrowth. They'd only been walking for ten minutes when they heard the bellowing roar again.

The Doctor held up his hand to stop River, listening hard, brow furrowed.

"What is it?" River whispered excitedly.

Another roar. The Doctor closed his eyes and remained silent for several seconds. "I have no idea."

"How can you not know? You always know." There it was. That unconditional, ever-present trust. Deep down, the Doctor knew that River song would follow him forever, would love him forever, would trust him forever. And she was happy to be that person for him. River was his, and his alone.

"Well, right now I don't. It could just be…a lion…?"

River folded her arms. "I don't think so, sweetie. Come on, let's go!" She set off at a quicker pace, leaving the Doctor to run after her on this shorter legs.

Hearts are muscles, they say. They need exercise, need to be pushed, stretched. Stitching itself back together again must have been one hell of a work out. But he was stronger now for it.

River stayed on the TARDIS longer than usual, for the Doctor had decided to take her to the premier of the very first space opera as well. He was dressed in a 31st style tuxedo: sequined black with four buttons and flared sleeves. River let the TARDIS pick out her dress: a flowing floor-length gown of cerulean, woven intricately with tiny glittering turquoise strands that sparkled when she moved.

She walked with her same constant elegant self-confidence as she descended the stairs to the control room where the Doctor waited. "I never went to prom," she said.

Grinning, the Doctor produced a pure white lily corsage and fastened it to her wrist. "You look like a princess. In fact," he dug into his pocket and removed his psychic paper, "I think you are." He offered her his arm. River had to stoop sideways to reach it, and they compromised by him looping his arm around her wrist. They stepped out of the TARDIS and into the richly decorated wall of the Artarsic Space Station Opera House.

Their tickets were checked by a young, blue sinned woman with three glittering golden eyes and thick green hair the texture of pasta. She smiled patronizingly at the Doctor when he handed her the psychic paper.

"This is history right here, love," she said. "I hope you're thanking your mum for bringing you." She handed back the paper.

It took the Doctor a full two seconds to realize who she was talking about, but as he opened his mouth to vehemently protest, River flashed the woman a winning smile. "Oh, you can bet he will be." She looked down at the Doctor. "Won't you, sweetie?"

"Erm-yes." The Doctor allowed River to steer him to their seats: the VIP box in the center of the hall. "Do I really look like your _son_?" he whispered.

"To everyone else, probably." River pinched his arm playfully. "My dear Oedipus."

They took their seats. Before the front row was a gleaming silver railing, and then the floor dropped away into a massive, gravity-less bubble protruding out into space. Its skin twinkled in the light from the lanterns in the hall, sending glistening rainbows all across the stage. The Artarsic Spacemen had recently discovered a way to send sound waves through the void of space, in such a way which amplified the noises and scattered them all across the hall, rebounding and reverberating, filling the space like nothing any of the audience had ever heard before.

The Doctor turned sideways to see a single tear slide down River's cheek. She squeezed his hand and whispered, "Thank you."

**So that was lovely. Now, I have promised Mr. You-Know-Who-You-Are a weird author's note, but if you are actually reading this story for the story and not the author's note, you don't have to read this. You probably shouldn't, it will be boring. You should skip past the bold to see a teaser for the next chapter. But here goes. This is the epic tale of my search for Matt Smith's shoes. I am dressing up as him for Comicon and found, without much difficulty, shirt, tweed jacket, pants, matching maroon bowtie and suspenders, and fez, but could not find his rather particular grey boots. I wandered through every thrift store I knew and finally found a very similar pair at Goodwill. The left boot fit. The right boot was too damn small! Two days ago, I saw a girl wearing the perfect boots. I asked where she had gotten them, she said from a friend. I asked the friend. She said Wet Seal. I went to Wet Seal and found the boots in the wrong color and wrong size. Last night I went to DSW, and after a long and harrowing search, found nothing. I then saw a friend of mine wearing a similar pair that are too light but are pretty damn close, so I'm about to go to her house to pick them up. My tale has ended. I know you were on the edge of your seat the whole time.**

**Also, I saw John Carter of Mars and the king of the green four-armed guys said, "My right arms offend me. I shall cut them off." It made me laugh.**

**Apologies if you read this and were not amused. I have an agreement which I must keep with Mr. YKWA. **

**Here's a teaser for next time:**

1940

The Doctor sprinted into the street, and skidded to the left, just barely avoiding collision with a tank draped with the Union Jack, but running straight into a smartly dressed woman in official military attire.

"Oof! Oi! What are _you_ doing here?" The woman dragged the Doctor to his feet. "You should have been evacuated!"

The Doctor tried to pull his arm away, but the woman's grip was too strong. "No! I've got to see Winston Churchill at once!"

"It's the train station for you." The woman pulled the Doctor to a parked car and pushed him into the back seat. "And if you're not registered, there's a lovely old professor I know whose house is till free." She started the car and drove off toward the train station.

**Find out what happens next time on "It's Still Me"!**


End file.
